The Consequences of Camlann
by SuperWhoLockMerlin
Summary: A kind of AU where Merlin gets to the Battle of Camlann earlier than in the show! Mordred/OC! xxx Better than it sounds! Rated T, just in case!
1. Chapter 1

AN: Cassie is my own character. She is a noble whose parents were killed by bandits, afterwards she went to live with Uther, who was a friend of her parents. She is the same age as Mordred. Her destiny is to help Merlin and Arthur create Albion. This is a kind of AU where Merlin gets to the Battle earlier than he did in the final episode, so Arthur, Mordred and Gwaine don't die. (Cause I love all of them!) This is a Mordred/OC! This is my first Fan Fiction, so reviews and criticism are welcome :D

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Cassie!  
I hope you enjoy it! xxx

*  
CASSIE POV It couldn't end this way. Face down in mud, blood pooling around my head like a gory red halo. My muscles burned, and I couldn't feel my left arm. All around me I could hear the screams of the falling and the fallen. Where were Arthur and Mordred? They couldn't be dead. I knew that this was Camlann, the battle where, it was foretold, that Arthur would fall, and there was nothing I could do about it. Which is why I could not die. I could not let Arthur down. I was his best friend, along with Merlin, and his protector, again, along with Merlin. I was, and always will be, the master of my own fate.

I struggled to my feet, spots of light exploding in front of my eyes. The whole battlefield had an eerie stillness about it. As I stumbled forward I realized that I was walking through a field of the dead. Men pulled at my ankles, both friend and foe alike, as I passed, but I spared them no thought. I made my way towards the only two people left fighting. Two men, one tall with blond hair, and a red cloak of Camelot, and the other, a shorter man with curling, raven locks, wearing simple armor. No, please Lord no.  
"STOP!"  
A wrinkled old man stood atop the cliff over looking the battlefield. He wore a long, red robe, and had an awfully familiar looking face, with a long beard and wooden walking stick. Emrys. Merlin.  
"Imhotepe asantanias desomelay!"  
The chanting seemed nonsensical to me but it seemed to work. Mordred flew backwards, slamming onto the ground almost fifty meters away from Arthur. His body convulsed in pain.  
"Mordred!" His name escaped my lips before I could even think about it. He may have been under Morgana's influence, and trying to kill Arthur, but love is weird. And I would not let him die, he meant too much to me.

I lurched forwards, tripping, but continuing on my hands and knees. Arthur began to run to me, and Emrys searched wildly for a cliff path down. I crawled faster and faster, and was in touching distance of Mordred when the rocks slipped out from under my right side. I slid sideways, falling down an almost sheer slope. I bounced and rolled, landing at the bottom, my head cracking hard against a rock. Pain rocked my body in a strong wave, and my vision clouded over.

When I regained partial consciousness I was in a warm, comfortable bed. My head rested on a fluffy pillow, and a thick duvet was draped over my body. I felt better than I had in months. Mentally and physically I felt perfect. The weight of the prophecy, destinies, Camlann, Morgana, it all seemed gone. I noticed a soft hand stroking mine, and a voice whispering gently in my ear.  
"Cass," it said, "Cass, please be awake."  
I didn't want to be awake, didn't want to open my eyes. I was happy in my warm, cozy bubble, all the worries that had been ricocheting off the inside of head seemed far away.  
The hand had begun to caress my face, it's thumb tracing my cheekbone delicately.  
"Cass, come on, dammit Cass please!"  
A nagging thought scratched the at back of my brain. Why was I worried about Mordred? What was he doing last time I had seen him? That was it, he had been flying backwards, his body hitting the ground. I had not seen him move. My eyes snapped open, and there was only one thought in my mind.  
"Mordred."

The piercing blue eyes above me were a shockingly welcome sight. I sat up as fast as I could and wrapped my arms tight around Mordred's neck. One of his arms wound around my waist and he held me close, his other arm supported my back, while he stroked my tangled hair. "I thought you were dead," I sobbed, I could feel my tears making lines in the cracked, dried dirt on my face. I guessed that Mordred had healed me, but didn't bother washing my face or hair. I could tell that the tangles in my hair were matted blood, but right now I couldn't care less. Mordred was here, Mordred was alive, Mordred was holding me. And in that moment, that was all that mattered.  
But my mind suddenly flashed back to it's logical path.  
"Merlin? And Arthur? Where are they? Are they all right?"  
"Fine, Cassie, they're fine," Mordred soothed me, "They're safe. I... I couldn't hurt them. Not when it came down to it."  
I tucked my head deep into the crook of his neck.  
"Thank you," I breathed.

It was two weeks later and we had decided that, at the moment, that it was too dangerous to go back to Camelot. Even though Mordred was sorry, he hated himself for trying to hurt Arthur, and I was here to vouch for him, we knew Arthur wouldn't be as forgiving. We were staying in an abandoned cottage in the woods that Mordred had found on his travels with the Druids, around twenty miles away from Camelot, in the middle of dense forest. It was near a stream, so we had settled into a familiar routine of berries for breakfast, hunting and fishing in the afternoon, meat for dinner, and in the evenings we sat by the fire, reminiscing.  
I dreaded the nights. The second Mordred bedded down in the main living room, my heart began thumping wildly. I hated sleeping on my own in the bedroom, even when I had a candle. The nightmares were usually of Camlann, or Morgana, or the day my parents were murdered. Whenever they woke me, I would try to cry as quietly as possible, so as not to wake Mordred, and then sit awake in my room until sunrise.

Arthur thrust his sword through Mordred's abdomen and twisted the blade cruelly, a smirk on his face. Now I was in the courtyard of Camelot's citadel, watching Mordred be led up the steps to a gallows, a bag forced over his head, and the rope slipped around his neck. The trapdoor opened and Mordred dropped.  
Morgana had her fingers clutching Mordred's head, and she viciously tilted it backwards. She ran a sharp dagger across his throat, and blood spattered the stone floor like rubies.  
Merlin was grinning down at Mordred, his eyes blazing amber. Mordred was writhing and screaming in pain on the floor. Merlin clenched his fist and Mordred's scream rose to such a pitch that he became silent. He began to shake violently, went still, and his body slumped, eyes wide and unseeing.

I shoot up, shrieking and thrashing. My whole body was covered in sweat, and there were tears cascading down my face. I tried to tear the blanket off of me, but it seemed to be like a cocoon, a prison, wrapping around me and trapping me in a tiny bubble of stuffy heat, and damp sweat. The door burst open and Mordred rushed into the room. He pulled me into his arms and rocked me softly, shushing me, whispering to me.  
"Cass, shhh, it'll be okay," he murmured, resting his chin on top of my head,  
"Cassie tell me what happened, tell me what's wrong."  
"Nightmares," I choked out, "You were d-dying!"  
"No, I'm here, I will not leave you," he said determination strong in his voice, "Cassie, I will always be here." I looked up at him, his perfect, almond shaped eyes were full of caring and concern, his hair curled perfectly at the nape of his neck. Without thinking I reached up and twisted my fingers into the curls on the back of his head. He stared at me, confused. I had never been truly impulsive until that moment. The moment when I pulled him down to me and kissed him, hard, and passionate on the mouth. He seemed surprised but leaned over me and ran his tongue over my bottom lip, I opened my mouth longingly, a moan escaping. He climbed onto the bed over me on his hands and knees, and I brought my legs up around his waist. He moved his lips to my neck, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses down to the hollow in my throat.  
"Mordred," my voice came out in a breathy moan.  
His hands moved to my waist, squeezing, and suddenly he jerked backwards away from me.  
"Good idea," I whispered, I needed a bit of room if we were to do this properly.  
I began to pull at the strings holding together the bodice of my nightgown. Mordred's hand stopped mine.  
"Cass, no."  
I glanced up at him, he looked pained. He wouldn't meet my eyes and his hands moved mine away from my bodice. But it was too late to stop. The bodice fell apart slowly, it's two halves opening to reveal my chest.  
Mordred looked away, his eyes screwed shut, his plump, cupid's bow lips were pursed in a thin line. "This is wrong Cass," he said, his voice was harsh, and cruel like I'd never heard before.  
I hauled the blanket up to my chin, my face was flushed red, and hot tears of embarrassment stung the back of my eyes. I thought he felt the same way about me. All the small smiles when we passed in the corridors, laughing together on rides, lazy swordplay on the training field. It all seemed like he returned my feelings. The pain of rejection was so unexpected that anger rose up inside me.  
"Kara? Is this because of her. She's dead, Mordred, she is not coming back," I spat.  
"Don't you dare," he said, his voice level, "Just don't, please. Cass this is wrong for many other reasons than Kara."  
"What's wrong with me? Why is this wrong Mordred," I snapped, "D'you know what forget it. Just get out. Leave!"  
"Cass I-"  
"GO!" I shrieked yanking the covers up over my head, and burying my face in the pillow.  
I heard him get off the bed and walk to the door. A pause.  
"I'm sorry."  
The door closed and I let myself go. I cried so hard that I became soundless, my body shook with small tremors. I heard Mordred lie down in the adjoining room, sighing softly as he slipped off into sleep.

I clambered inelegantly out the window. I was wrapped in a cream tunic that reached my knees, tied at the waist by a belt, over black riding pants, leather boots, and a long black cloak. I was dressed for walking. It was almost twenty miles to Camelot, and I would have to make good time if I didn't want to be caught. I had to get away from him, the sickening humiliation was too much for me to bear. And now that I knew he didn't love me back I had no reason to stay.

My feet were bleeding when I reached Camelot two days later. I could barely stand as I stumbled towards the gates with the rest of the refugees still pouring to Camelot after the Battle of Camlann. I passed the guards without event, I was ragged and dirty, and practically identical to the hordes of people massing around the citadel. I stepped into the courtyard and looked up. Arthur, Merlin, Guinevere, and the rest of the knights were milling around, passing out supplies, and comforting the wounded. Merlin's eyes shone amber at intervals, and I was overjoyed to see Arthur look across and smile at him while he so openly used magic. Merlin turned, catching my eye. He went to keep turning, to survey the courtyard, but suddenly did a double take when he realized who I was. "Cass." His mouth formed the word, but the sound was lost in the melee of the injured and the ill.  
"CASSIE!"  
Merlin raised his voice, attracting the attention of everyone in the immediate area. I tripped over my own feet as I ran to him. I began to fall, and I cast a last desperate thought back to the scribbled note I had left in the cottage as the ground rose up to meet my face.

MORDRED POV

I hadn't meant to hurt her. But it was wrong on so many levels. Firstly, Kara had just died, and though I loved Cassie with everything I had, Kara's memory was too fresh in my mind. Secondly, she was noble, born to a rich, proud family, and I was just a knight. Albeit, one of Camelot, if I hadn't been banished, or sentenced to death. And I was a Druid, hated by most, or feared.  
Also, we were not married, it was all well and good for her to offer herself to me but that didn't make us married, it would be indecent. Not in my eyes, or hers, apparently, but in the eyes of everyone else. And it would hurt her, badly, and I couldn't bear the thought of me causing her any pain. I couldn't harm her body in any way. Her beautiful body, her perfect face, her smile, the way she moved, her compassion, everything about her was perfection.

I stood up, off of my makeshift bed. I couldn't leave this any longer. I had been waiting for her to come out of her room but it was obvious she wasn't going to do that anytime soon. I had to explain to her why I turned her down. She probably thought I hated her, or at the very least that I didn't love her. I did though, I truly did, I just needed time, and if we were going to be together, we were going to do it properly. She had to know all the consequences of what she wanted to do.  
"Cass, are you awake?" I asked, tapping gently on the door, "Cass I'm coming in."

I sucked in a breath, but it felt like my throat was closing up. The window was open, Cassie was gone, and there was a rolled up piece of parchment lying on her bed. I picked it up, twisting it before my fingers before opening it. There were two lines scribbled in capital letters, black ink contrasting starkly against the cream parchment.

"I'VE GONE BACK TO CAMELOT. DO NOT COME AFTER ME."

*  
SIX MONTHS LATER

CASSIE POV

My birthday had been four months ago. I had never liked birthdays, especially my own. Too much attention focused on me and I didn't do well in the spotlight. And what had happened at the start of the day had ruined my mood.

I had woken up feeling slightly sick when I thought about the day ahead. I had felt something under my pillow, hard and round, and sticking up slightly. I pushed my hand underneath the fabric, groping. My fingers found a cold little ball. I had pulled it out, my stomach clenching in anticipation. It was a small, perfect pearl on a chain. I had seen it before.

Mordred had found it when we had gone on a picnic, while we were staying in the cottage. It had been looped on the branch of a tree, at the edge of a clearing in the forest. I had told him it was the most beautiful thing I had ever scene, but I wouldn't feel right taking it.

But when I had looked at it on the morning of my birthday, there was a small 'C' carved on the back.

Four months later, when Leon, Gwaine, Percival, and the rest returned from a patrol, with the news that Mordred was dead, I did not cry. My duty was to help Arthur, to help Merlin, and to be strong for them. Mordred had betrayed Arthur, and Camelot. Arthur had once told Merlin that no man was worth his tears. This became my mantra whenever a certain black haired, blue eyed man crept into my thoughts. He was not worth my tears.  
So I did not cry, I would not cry.


	2. Chapter 2

_THREE YEARS LATER_

Aline brushed my hair forward, over my left shoulder and began to weave it into a plait. My hair was dyed an even lighter shade of blond than usual, due to the sun that had been beating down on Camelot for the past few weeks. My cheeks were powdered slightly pink, and my skin glowed with a healthy shine from my recent bath.  
I had, however, turned down the eye drops. My eyes were the only thing I truly liked about my appearance, and I would not let anyone change them. I pushed down the memory of being told that they were the most beautiful emerald colour known to man. I couldn't afford to think of him tonight, Arthur was throwing this feast in honour of my twenty sixth birthday, and kings, queens, princes, and princesses from across the five kingdoms were going to be in attendance.

"M'lady?"  
"Sorry?"  
I hadn't been paying attention while Aline had been talking. I felt bad. Aline had become a constant companion to me, and even though I didn't particularly enjoy having someone fetch and carry for me, bathe and dress me, she was good company.  
"I said," she repeated, giggling, "That you'll have a nice pick of men to choose from tonight, and I can have the rest!"  
"You're too wicked," I told her, my face breaking out into a mischievous grin, "I'll need all of them anyway, I'm twenty six and not married yet, I'm practically a spinster!"  
We laughed together, but it was something that had started to worry me in the past year and a half, two years. People had begun to look at me as 'on the shelf', and my best childbearing years were beginning to slip away. Once upon a time, I had thought that he and I... No. I would not let myself think of him. It would hurt too much.  
"Oh, look at that dress m'lady," Aline's voice was a whisper, "You'll be so beautiful!"  
The seamstress had just laid my dress for that evening out on the bed. It had a cream bodice, with sleeves that fell off my shoulders, and it tied in the back with an ebony coloured lace ribbon. The neckline dipped low in a heart shape showing enough cleavage to be daring, but not enough to make me look like a woman of the night. The bottom of the bodice cut a V shape into the top of the skirt. The skirt matched the bodice in colour, it flared slightly, subtle pleats etched into the hem. It was truly the most beautiful dress I had seen.

"And now for you Aline," I said, delighted that I didn't have to keep it a secret any more.  
I ran to the wooden chest in the corner of my chambers and threw it open. I took out a cloth package, folded and tied with string.  
"What about me, m'lady?" Aline asked, looking confused.  
I unwrapped the package, and pulled out the dress, laying it out next to mine. It was almost identical, save for a few things. The sleeves were full length on Aline's dress, the neckline was higher, the bodice ended in a straight line, circling the waist, and her dress was a light golden colour.  
"It's for you," I told her, "For tonight. I want you to be my guest at the feast, no duties, no serving, no 'm'lady'. Just you and I as friends."  
She looked awed, her mouth a perfect circle, the image of surprise. She held the dress up to herself, fingers sliding along the smooth material. The colour suited her skin perfectly, making her brown eyes look wide and doe like, and her coppery hair look even more glossy and bright. The fit made her small body look fragile and dainty, her delicate features gave her the look of a faerie princess.  
"I can't," she whisper, her face dropping, "It wouldn't be right to have a servant there."  
"YOU are not just a servant, you are my friend," I replied angrily, "So be there to support me as I try and find true love."  
She laughed at that, but still shook her head.  
"Merlin will be there..." I said with a sly smile.  
"Will he? I mean will he be-"  
She was flustered, and a bright red blush crept across her pale face.  
"He'll be there as a guest," I clarified.  
"Well m'lady, he is Court Sorcerer, it is only right for him to be in attendance, and he is your friend."  
"And so are you, so please, please be there," I begged, "I bet Merlin would love that dress on you. And remember, the Queen was a servant once."  
"Well...," she relented, "If you're sure."  
"I am! I definitely am," I shrieked, "Now come here and let me do your hair."

"You look perfect," I said softly, and she did, "Just, give me a second..."  
I reached out and tucked two stray curls behind her ear. She smiled at me, and put her arms around me gently, squeezing my shoulders.  
"Thank you so much," she said to me, before pulling back, and touching the tip of her index finger to my collar bone.  
She hurried over to my jewelry box and taking something out.  
"Here. Turn around."  
She tied a necklace around my throat, and I felt a cold lump settle in the hollow at the base of my neck. I looked down, and my breathing seemed to stop. Mordred's pearl hung around my neck. I hadn't worn in it months. Wearing it again, even seeing it was enough to bring tears to the back of my eyes.  
"It matches your dress," Aline's voice was sweet, and caring.  
She traced my plait, tipping her fingers off of the lilac flowers she had woven into my hair.  
"Lets go.

The feast was not like the feasts Arthur normally threw. People were not sitting formally, talking quietly. The food was laid out on a long rectangular table, and people wandered around the hall, eating out of their hands, talking, laughing, and in some cases, dancing. This was the condition on which I allowed Arthur to hold the feast. It had to be informal. Even so, I had spent much of the evening bored out of my mind from dancing with noblemen, kings, and princes because I knew it would be good for Arthur's relations with the other kingdoms. But my God they were boring! All they talked about was how great and honourable rulers they were, and how every woman they ever saw fell at their feet and said, ever so condescendingly, that Arthur wasn't his father but 'he was doing SUCH a good job for someone so young'.

I wandered over to Gwaine and Percival who were standing by a window, drinking ale, and stuffing roast pig into their mouths. I stopped next to them and they looked up.  
"Hey birthday girl," Gwaine said, tugging gently on the end of my plait.  
"Get off me," I shot back, "I had a bath especially for tonight, and you are getting greasy pig fat all over my clean hair!"  
Percival laughed at Gwaine's hurt expression and offered me a tankard of ale that had been sitting on the window sill. We drank and talked, and they complimented my dress, and told me how nice it was that I had invited Aline. I felt myself getting more and more relaxed. I always felt more at ease with the knights, and Arthur and Merlin, than with any woman, save Aline and Gwen.  
I could feel the women now, gossiping behind my back. I heard whispers of words like 'hussy' and 'common', and apparently it was widely thought that I was having, shall we say, intimate relations with all of the knights. I tried not to let this hurt me but Gwaine and Percival could see my discomfort.  
"Do you want to go for a walk?" Percival's expression was thankfully not pitying, but I could see a sort of angry hurt on my behalf.  
"Just a moment," I said with a grateful smile.  
I turned and scanned the room, Aline was standing by Merlin, gazing at the back of his head over the shoulder of a man who looked about two hundred years old and was probably talking about taxes, and whatnot. I flitted across the hall to Merlin and tapped his shoulder.  
"Cassie!" He looked down at me, "Having fun?"  
"If I hear one more story about the importance of growing crops in straight lines I will go insane," I muttered, "But it was sweet of Arthur to do this for me."  
"You spent most of the night getting drunk with Gwaine and Percival," Merlin smirked.  
"Shut up, and do me a favour, okay?" I punched him gently on the arm, "Go ask Aline to dance. She looks like she's going to explode with boredom."  
Merlin glanced up at her, and grinned. He bowed, shooting a mocking smile at me, and walked over to Aline, taking her hand, and pulling her out to where the other couples were dancing.  
I hurried to the door before I could get distracted once more. Gwaine and Percival were waiting at the heavy oak doors, and when they saw me they held them open and bundled me through without a word.

My feet were freezing. I had taken off my shoes because they were bringing up blisters, but now they were practically numb with the cold. The three of us were sneaking silently along the passage above the kitchens, scavenging for leftovers. We came to the grate they had used so many times before and looked down. The kitchens were empty, but laying across the wooden counters were scraps from the feast. We lay on our stomachs, unraveling thread and tying it to the end of a small metal hook.  
"Better than the feast anyway," Gwaine said, sliding the hook through the grate, "Huh, Cassie?"  
"Bloody, stuffy, arrogant, boring old noblemen," I snarled to no one in particular, "Why was it my tedious job to entertain them?"  
"Having fun?"  
The voice came from behind us. We whipped round in unison. A man mid to late twenties was leaning against a window sill, smiling cheekily. He had thick, chocolate brown hair that fell over his forehead, brown eyes so dark that they appeared black. His body was long and lean, muscled and powerful, he had dimples in his cheeks when he smiled and a warm brown complexion with a scattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He was beautiful.  
"And who are you?" I asked, returning to my senses before the others.  
"I," he said, climbing down off of the window sill and strolling towards us, "Am one of the, what was it, 'bloody, stuffy, arrogant, boring old noblemen' that it was your tedious job to entertain."


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm so sorry," I laughed, "Nothing personal, just, you know, I'm not really interested in crops, and taxes, and what noblemen have to say. No offence."  
"None taken."  
The man had reached us by this point, and was crouched on the floor next to us. Gwaine and Percival glowered at him, shifting slightly as if to shield me.  
"I'm Damien," he told us, sticking out his hand for them to shake.  
They made no effort to reciprocate the movement. I leaned forward, annoyed at their rudeness, and took his hand.  
"Cassie, and this is Gwaine and Percival," I said to him, "Why aren't you at the feast?"  
"Same reason as you, I guess," he said with a grin, "Can't stand all those stuck up noblemen who think they're God's gift to Earth."  
We smiled at each other until Gwaine made an irritated coughing sound. My head jerked up, and I felt blood rush to my cheeks. They did not look pleased with me.  
"May I?" He asked, holding out his hands to Gwaine.  
Gwaine snorted noncommittally and thrust the hook and thread into Damien's hand. He slid down on his stomach over the grate. He lowered the hook down until it was bumping off of the table. Gwaine and Percival watched him with identical looks of dislike, sitting with their arms folded, deliberately turning their backs on him.  
"Aha!"  
Damien hoisted a piece of meat out of the gaps in the metal, and proffered it to me. I took it with a smile and jammed the whole slice in my mouth, groaning at the sweet honey taste. He dragged more pig up offering it to Gwaine and Percival in turn both declined frostily, but I kept on chewing. As we talked I got to like him more and more. He was second in line to the throne of somewhere, I didn't really care where, it was more the way he talked, and laughed, and listened to me. He seemed too good to be true, but we seemed to be the same person, same like, dislikes, even the same favorite foods and colours. It reminded me so strongly of the fantasies Aline and I had always talked about, finding true love, soul mates, our other half and things like that, that I was almost afraid that it was a dream.  
The only drawback was Gwaine and Percival. They seemed, for no particular reason, to have developed an intense hatred for Damien the second he started talking to us. They sat in a stony silence all night, breaking it only to grunt or shrug when Damien asked them a question, or addressed them directly. Halfway through the night, when I stopped laughing to settle into a amicable silence, I realized how cold it was and began to shiver almost uncontrollably. Without a moments hesitation he slid off his wool overcoat, and draped it around my shoulders. I smiled my thanks and I was sure I heard Percival mutter something that sounded like 'clotpole'.

When the sun began to come up in the east I decided it was time for me to retire. The three men walked me to my room, Gwaine and Percival marching on either side of me, Damien striding along behind us. When we reached my door Gwaine yanked it open, and Percival placed a hand on the small of my back, guiding me through. I took advantage of my shortness and used it to duck under Gwaine's arm.  
"Are you still going to be here tomorrow?" I asked, putting a hand on my shoulder and slipping off Damien's woolen coat and handing it back, "Or today? Or just when I wake up?"  
Dear God I was rambling now.  
"Of course! I couldn't miss an opportunity to see your pretty face," He put a finger under my chin, tilting my head up, "And my father wants to talk peace treaties with Arthur."  
Gwaine and Percival had moved forward when he had touched my face, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.  
"I think," Gwaine said, calmly and coldly, "That it's time for you to go to bed Cassie."  
Damien made eye contact with Gwaine and Percival and I could have sworn that, for a second, his eyes hardened and his mouth pursed slightly, but it was gone before I could be sure. He bent down to kiss my hand, and glanced up at me with a smirk.  
"Good night, m'lady."  
He turned and walked away, the first rays of sunlight glancing off his skin. I smiled like an idiot, and Percival huffed in irritation and pushed me into my room.  
"Go to bed," he snapped, and then his face softened, "And happy birthday Cass. This is from me and Gwaine."  
He passed me a small wrapped parcel, rectangular and heavy. I hugged him tightly, and then threw my arms around Gwaine.  
"Thanks guys."  
I walked to my bed and Percival shut the door behind me. I crawled under the covers, exhaustion taking over me. I unwrapped the present, gently turning it over in my hands. It was a small, leather bound book. I opened it, flicking through the pages, there were illustrations of dragons, warlocks, towers, princesses, and a story. It almost brought tears to my eyes. They must have saved for moths to buy this, and that drove all of the annoyance from my body. Maybe they really did have a reason for disliking Damien, well, I could talk to them in the morning I settled down, intent on reading the first chapter, but I was asleep in seconds.  
That was the first night in nearly three and a half years that I did not dream of Mordred.

When I woke up the first the thing I noticed was pain jabbing the back of my skull. I felt around the back of my head and pulled out the metal clips still in my hair. It was a tangled mess of curls from the plait I had forgotten to undo last night. I pulled on leather leggings, a cotton tunic and a fancy fur throw that clinched at the waist with a metal buckle. I pulled my hair back into a sloppy bun, and padded to the door. When I opened it, Gwaine and Percival were slumped back to back, asleep on the floor. Had they been there all night? I ruffled their hair slightly, grinning at their childishness.  
I made my way down to the stables. The sun was almost overhead, so I guessed that I had only been asleep a few hours. Even though it was midday the castle was almost deserted. Most of the chambers were taken up by visiting nobles, sleeping soundly, and there were more people asleep in corridors, propped against walls and doors. I seemed to be the only person awake in the castle until I got to the stables. Damien was in there, his back facing me. He was stroking a black stallion while gently tying his throat lash.  
"You weren't lying," He jumped slightly at the sound of my voice, and I smiled and leaned against the frame of the stable door, "You really are a true horseman."  
Damien looked sheepish, but walked towards me, seemingly glad of my presence.  
"Yours?" He asked, patting down the palomino mare in the next stall.  
"Rosalie, she's the love of my life," I told him, taking my saddle and bridle off of the wall, "I was going to go for a ride in the forest, coming?"  
"Of course," Damien said, moving to help me with the saddle.  
"I can do it," I snapped, "I don't need help."  
He looked taken aback, and I sighed, feeling guilty.  
"I'm sorry, I just want to show people that being a woman does not make me weak."  
"I don't think of you as weak in the slightest," He whispered. He was suddenly very close to me, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.  
My breath caught in my throat, and instinctively, I jammed the saddle into his chest.  
"Here," I told him, "You saddle her up, I'll get my boots on."  
I sat in the corner, slipping off my shoes and pulling on my fur trimmed riding boots, tying them with thick strips of wool. I looked up at Damien. He was standing by Rosalie, combing her mane. She was tacked up and ready to go. I walked past him, placing my foot in the stirrup iron and swinging myself onto her back.  
"Race you to the lake."

We stayed out so long that is was dark when we got back. The torches were flickering in the wind and we were shivering from the cold, damp weather, but it had been a great day. The only problem had been the way Damien had talked about Gwaine and Percival. He had asked what their problem was, and hadn't seemed pleased when I had defended them so openly. And he had this little sneer on his face when he talked about them, like they were beneath him in some way. To be fair though, they hadn't exactly been kind or welcoming to him.  
As we rode through the gates, the guards leaped forward, spooking the horses.  
"Lady Cassandra," One of them exclaimed.  
"Cassandra," Damien said with a snort.  
"Shut up Damien," I rolled my eyes and turned to the guards, "What's wrong?"  
"M'lady, the King has been searching for you all day. The Queen also, the Court Sorcerer, the knights, and almost everyone who was visiting for your birthday."  
Oh no. I hadn't told anyone where I was going. What had Gwaine and Percival thought when they had found my chambers empty, and Damien and I missing. I urged Rosalie on, towards the castle, cantering into the courtyard just before Damien. I vaulted off my horse and ran to the throne room, taking the steps and stairs two at a time.  
I burst in. Arthur and Gwen were seated on their thrones, his eyes were red and puffy and Gwen had her head in her hands. Aline was crying at the window, Merlin patting her shoulder. Gwaine and Percival stood in a corner silently while Leon paced the room. It's walls were lined with the people who had attended my party last night. Aline glanced up at the sound of the door opening, gasped, ran to me and threw her arms around me.  
"Where have you been?!" Arthur shouted, his voice equal parts furious and relieved.  
"In the woods," I told him over Aline's head, "I'm a big girl Arthur I can take care of myself."  
"What's the matter?"  
Damien sauntered in, eyes wide and innocent. Was he trying to mess with Arthur on purpose?  
"The matter is that Cassie has been gone all day, bed empty, no note, horse gone, she could have died!" Arthur was yelling now, "There have been reports of a sorcerer in the woods near Camelot recently!"  
"Arthur I'm sorry," I told him, detaching myself from Aline and running to his side, " I didn't realize."  
"My son, though, should have known better," said a squat old man, stepping forward.  
Damien looked embarrassed, and mumbled something that sounded like 'I'm sorry father'.  
The man shook his head and turned to face Arthur.  
"And after the proposal for peace talks my son goes and puts the Lady Cassie in danger," he shook his head.  
"Peace is still desired by both sides," Arthur said softly, "We can talk tomorrow, and Cass is fine, there is no harm done."  
"Good," Damien's father cleared his throat, "Because, as a peace offering..."  
He looked around the room, as is pausing for dramatic effect, and then raised his eyes to meet Arthur's.  
"I would like to offer my son, Damien, as a marriage partner for the Lady Cassie."


End file.
